


savour the taste of fabricated wealth

by foulassin



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Blow Jobs, Champagne, Cock Slapping, Dominant Erik, Drunk Sex, Fellatio, Food Kink, Food Porn, Food Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Manipulation, Minimal graphic depictions of violence...like it's just like one paragraph i swear, Murderous Thoughts, Non-Consensual Touching, Oral Sex, POV First Person, PWP, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Submissive Raoul, cock stepping, erik's pov, who tf am i lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:13:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27366370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foulassin/pseuds/foulassin
Summary: two men celebrate the successful debut of their beloved in an unconventional way.
Relationships: Raoul de Chagny/Erik | Phantom of the Opera
Comments: 14
Kudos: 46





	savour the taste of fabricated wealth

**Author's Note:**

> really just an excuse to write porn based on the champagne that raoul brought christine at the night of her debut (in the alw stage version) AND to avoid writing my other wip as well lmao. this was originally supposed to be dom!raoul but...as it slowly materialized...it made more sense if it was the other way around so...ta-da! actually it also works with dom!raoul but ANYGAYS,,
> 
> admittedly not my best work because: 1) i have never done first pov and 2) my first dominant erik in this dynamic...but hey...it's still some nasty rerik. 🤪 so a lot of firsts here. i don't think i'll ever write in this kind of pov again asjkdnaksjdnas.
> 
> hope you enjoy! cheers! 🍾🥂

"Where have you taken her?" he scowled, his fists burying themselves in my tailcoat, pressing me further against the mirror.

The scent of alcohol was evident in the boy's breath. The bottle of champagne he had brought that evening sat on the vanity table, already tampered with. When I had not responded, the boy drew his face closer to mine. I let him do as he pleased no matter how much stronger I was. Let the boy think that between the two of us, he was the one at an advantage.

"And what business do you have with her, _monsieur le Vicomte_?"

He frowned. It seemed that he was disappointed that I was not the least intimidated by the brave front he had mustered. "I have arranged for us to dine tonight!"

"Is that so?" I said through my teeth. Recalling such an invitation from the other side of the mirror moments ago made my blood run cold. He did not deserve to celebrate her success when he had contributed nothing to it. "If my memory serves me well, she refused as soon as you offered."

"How did you—" The confusion in his eyes amused me. Such an honestly expressive young man. It made me wonder if I would be able to provoke something else out of him. "I demand to see her this instant!"

If not for my desire to be in Christine's good graces, then I would have had him at the mercy of my lasso without hesitation. See if the alcohol would still make him as fearless even at the brink of death.

"She is unable to see anyone at the moment," I said.

"Unable to…?" He repeated, a horrified look on his face which rather pleased me. "What have you done to her?!"

"Dear boy.” I suppressed a smile. "Do you really wish to know?"

He called me a bastard before aiming his fist at me. It was not much of a fight for I already took hold of his wrist, turned him around, and pushed his face onto the cold surface of the mirror which had turned cloudy from his breath.

"What are you doing?! Let me go!"

His protests remained ignored. I made use of the white scarf which hung around his neck to bind his hands together behind his back. The boy whimpered in response as I tightened the knot around his delicate wrists, which were much like Christine's.

"Though you had been a very ungracious host, I am not so cruel to refuse a favor from a friend of hers.” I pulled the fabric from opposite sides for the last time. He grunted, trying to fight off my weight which kept his body pressed against the mirror. He shivered even though my lips barely touched his blushing ear.

“If you are so keen on celebrating her triumph, then I will do so in her place," I taunted.

"Why would I want to do that _with you_?" he gasped, realizing that I was already straining with need against the palm of his hands. I was taken by surprise as was he. Again, he struggled in an attempt to distance himself, but it only aroused me greatly for his movements had made his hand graze over the front of my trousers. I moaned, bucking my hips to feel more of his warmth, caging him with my arms, as my palms pressed against the mirror. I would have put the young man in his place that instant, but decided to prolong his discomfort and keep myself entertained.

So I released him and approached the vanity table, picking up the bottle of champagne—which was barely half-empty—and pretended to examine the label though I did not care much for it. How could I when I was already trembling at the thought of the young viscount pleading for me to ravish him?

"Have you thought her talent to come naturally?" I managed to say, and glanced back at him. I felt my cock twitch at the amount of animosity in those remarkably blue eyes.

"Come now, monsieur," I teased, "you wanted to celebrate the success of her debut as do I, do you not?"

He remained silent, eyes now fixated on the floor, still refusing to move an inch. I pursed my lips in impatience while I continued to inspect the bottle in my hands.

"You certainly have exquisite taste, de Chagny.”

He took a cautious step backwards. "How do you know my name?"

"How could I not?” I took the chair in front of the vanity table and made myself comfortable. I crossed my legs and leaned back against the table. “Christine often spoke of you.”

His face had brightened up at the mention of her name. He hastily strode to my side, eyes full of life, without a moment’s hesitation, akin to a moth's tendency to approach its own death.

"Did she?" he tried to contain the excitement in his voice. The blush on his cheeks by insobriety had gone down to his neck. "Of course she would! We were inseparable back in the day! What did she say about me?"

I thought of breaking this glass in half using the edge of the vanity table and making use of its sharpness to puncture his smooth neck. The canvas would be painted with crimson—indeed a magnificent contrast to his lifeless eyes. Perhaps I would use it to mangle that beautiful face of his. Wasn’t that much worse than death?

I took a deep breath, regained my composure, and immediately changed the subject. "Have you got any glass with you?"

He shook his head and pressed further, "well?"

"Patience,” I said, perhaps addressing both him and I. “I shall indulge you later. But first, let us make a toast."

I gestured for him to come closer. He was much more docile this time, longing to reminisce about their meaningless stories of youth that he had completely forgotten that he was nothing but prey.

"However, since you lack the appropriate stemware, I suppose we shall make do with what we have.” I offered him the bottle of champagne, my lips curling into a wicked smile while he stood there, helpless, and could only do nothing but stare. He frowned and narrowed his eyes at me, knowing that I took delight in his suffering.

"I cannot possibly do that when you have bound me, leaving my hands useless."

"Pardon my rude manners," I feigned apology and walked towards him. His breath hitched as soon as I laid my hand on his shoulder, guiding him until he sat comfortably on the chair. I let my fingers linger on the back of his neck. With my other hand, I took the bottle and nodded at him.

“To Christine," I said dryly.

I had more than a sip. As I poured the sparkling wine in my mouth, the boy whined, “how is this any better? Just untie me, y—!"

Irritated, I grabbed hold of his chin, forcing him to open his mouth by pressing both of his cheeks together until I was granted access. "What are you—ngh!”

I swallowed his words once I pressed my mouth over his, forcing my tongue between his lips, the alcohol dripping from it down to his throat. His lips were very soft against my coarse ones, just like what I had imagined Christine's would feel like. I cried out in pain and pulled away, cursing him as soon as he sunk his teeth into my tongue. He coughed, the remains of the alcohol trickling down his chin, down to his shirtsleeves and trousers.

"Are you mad?!" he managed to rasp in between coughs.

"You appeared to be in distress,” I pointed out nonchalantly, “and so I offered my help."

"And whose fault do you think that is?" he hissed in response.

"The pleasure is all mine," I cooed at him while my finger traced the outline of his soft jaw. “All mine.”

He moved his head so it was now out of my grasp. Though he seemed to be disgusted by my touch, his lips already trembled in anticipation for a second helping.

A dark laugh rose from my throat as I took another sip from the bottle. The young man flinched and looked away as soon as I caught him staring. I licked my lips, taking in the sight of him just sitting there.

So beautiful. So helpless. So pliant.

"Your clothes have been soiled. You must forgive my rash actions.” I knelt down behind him and slid off his tailcoat. He tried to protest, but his words had already become incoherent due to his intoxicated state. “This will stain if you leave it as is. We certainly cannot have Christine see you like this.”

He quickly shook his head, and attempted to create some distance between us.

"What would she say once she sees you drunk _in her dressing room_?" I pulled him closer and unfastened the bow around his neck and then his vest, clicking my tongue as I did so. "She would be disappointed."

"Disappointed?" he repeated in a whisper.

" _And frightened_ ," I murmured, nibbling on his ear. Once I had unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and union suit, my hand found its way under the layers where it caressed his bare skin. I grazed my lips against the damp skin on his neck, where I muttered, "after all, a drunk gentleman in a lady's dressing room is unbecoming."

"But I would never hurt Christine…" he murmured while I fondled his chest, rubbing one of his nipples until it rose and hardened under my fingertips.

I suckled on the skin until it bruised and trailed my lips until I found a patch of skin where I could create another. "With what you have brought for her tonight, have you not intended to take advantage of her?"

"I do not have any ill intentions!" I slid off his clothes until they collected around his bound wrists. His breath hitched as soon as I unzipped his trousers and palmed him through his undergarment, pleased that he was already throbbing with desire. "It was—ah!—Monsieur Firmin's. I did not...w-want to congratulate her empty-handed."

"Because you intend to drug her and submit to you?" I smirked, hand disappearing under his union suit until my fingers wrapped around his warm and rigid shaft.

"Don't—not there—! I would never—" he moaned, leaning back until his head was on my shoulder and thrusted into my hand. "I am nothing like you!"

"Nothing like me?" I repeated while I continued stroking him until his cock was finally free of any restraints. I hummed in satisfaction as it increasingly grew in my hand. "You are quite right. You are _nothing_ like me. Have you been the one to give her wings to soar?"

He was only able to respond with a moan after I had roughly tugged at his penis—the anger and bitterness beginning to course through my veins.

"And she still repays me with disobedience." The boy cried out as soon as I had brought my hand down roughly on his cock. I repeated this until his cries of pleasure turned to those of pain.

Soon, I was forcing him on his knees, while I took over his seat. My fingers, intertwined with his blonde locks, pulled him just merely an inch from the front of my trousers. "Now, won't you behave nicely and thank me in her place? After all, I deserve to share the triumph as her mentor."

"You are the angel of music?" he stuttered.

"What a smart boy," I caressed the back of his neck and smiled as I felt the hair on his skin rising up. "I should have expected nothing less from a well-educated man, though obviously you're still quite lacking. If you wish it, I am willing to teach you a few things as well. "

"But...you are just a man!"

"Are you quite certain of that?"

" _Who are you_?"

I did not entertain his question. Rather, I had brought the bottle's mouth against mine, tilted my head back, and waited for the alcohol to wash over my tongue. Once satisfied, I grabbed hold of the viscount's jaw once again and forced my thumb between his lips. The boy looked up at me, rosy lips already slightly parted, eyes flickering with anticipation, but also of sheer terror. I no longer met his lips. Instead, I let the sparkling wine flow down from it to his reluctant ones.

He refused to drink it, and instead let it drip from his chin, down to the front of my trousers. I tilted his head down so he was now looking how it was drenched from his stubbornness. "Such a waste, is it not?"

Trembling with anticipation, I pulled him and pressed him against my straining, clothed cock, grunting at the boy's hot breath against the wet coolness of the fabric. I guided his head along the length of my shaft, and instructed him to extend his tongue out. To my delight, he did as he was told.

"Good boy." I felt him tense at the pet name, but he immediately relaxed when I ran my fingers through his hair—gentler this time—leaving him to his own devices.

He whined, eagerness interrupted, when I began to unzip my trousers and finally took my cock out, its tip already flushed with need. The young viscount observed it in a daze as I began to stroke it slowly. He leaned in haste as soon as he saw the bead of precome forming at the tip. A whimper escaped his lips at the feeling of emptiness, for I had withdrawn myself before he could take it in his mouth.

I clicked my tongue while I rested the bottle along his lips. He obliged and took a mouthful.

"Don't," I warned him. I leaned back on the table and grasped the edge of the seat, spreading my legs wider for his convenience. I hissed as soon as he opened his mouth, and took me, drenching my cock with the alcohol.

"That's it. Good," I purred, guiding his head up and down on my hardness. He looked up at me with those tear-stained cheeks and I soon found myself caressing one of them with my thumb where it had caught a teardrop.

"Such an obedient boy." I thrusted myself deeper until I reached the back of his throat, holding his head in place. He gagged from the intrusion, but did not pull away. "How I wish that she would be more like you."

When he had regained his composure as soon as I had freed his throat, he diverted his attention to my testicles, sucking hungrily at the skin while I tipped the remains of the bottle straight to my manhood. He whined as it reached him and suckled on each one with more ardor. He began to thrust into nothingness while he attended to my cock, sliding his tongue from my testes up to its tip.

"Fuck." I halted his movements as soon as my legs began to tremble, and chased my orgasm by stroking myself fervently in front of him. His glassy eyes following my every movement and the drool glistening on his chin sent me over the edge.

"Ngh!" I rammed my cock back inside his mouth and finally emptied myself on his tongue with a groan, thrusting back and forth until I was certain that he had swallowed everything. He moaned as my careless thrusts slowly ceased, fatigue taking over the pleasure in my body.

He immediately collapsed, and slowly shifted his position, with his back now leaning on the chair while his head rested on my right groin. He brought one of his legs on the other side of my left leg, and weakly started grinding himself on the back of my leather boot in an attempt to relieve himself, no matter how uncomfortable his position was.

"What would Christine say when she sees such a vulgar sight? Her childhood friend's hard and leaking cock rubbing against her mentor's shoe," I cooed while my fingers enclosed around his neck. His thrusts became much more desperate in response.

"Now won't you come for me, boy?"

"Christine…Christine…" he panted. Beads of sweat slid down his skin as he repeated her name over and over until he was murmuring nonsense.

"No. _Erik_ ," I corrected him. He whined when I had deprived him of my ankle, yet he thrusted even in its absence. "Say it."

"E...rik—hngh!" the boy cried in pain when I brought down my heel to press against his manhood. He paused briefly, soon overwhelmed with pleasure as he sobbed out my name which, along with the sight of his semen on my evening wear, had made my spent cock harden.

His body slackened in exhaustion, but before he could rest, I pushed him towards the floor and ordered him to clean the mess he made.

Dazed and confused, he blindly crawled towards my ankle drenched in his shame, hands still tied behind him. With his tongue, he had started to clean the heel of my shoe together with the fabric of my pants, down to the droplets scattered on the floor.

I tilted his chin up as soon as he was done and wiped the side of his mouth with my thumb, praising him while he sucked on my finger.

I carried his limp body off the floor and bent him over on Christine's vanity table where his bare chest pressed against the wood's surface. The boy lifted his head while her cosmetics and other keepsakes clattered on the floor. He was greeted with his own disheveled face, and myself, who stood behind him with a devious smile on my lips.

He weakly protested with a grunt as I rubbed my hardened penis against his buttocks. I leaned over him, laid my chin on his shoulder, and looked at him through the mirror with ravenous eyes.

"Dear boy, we are far from finished. There is still much to learn."

**Author's Note:**

> well...erik certainly had a lot of fun with the champagne bottle...i also imagine he would use it post-fic if you know what i mean wink wonk. 😳🍾🥂
> 
> also idk if this would physically hurt erik's schlong but let's pretend it doesn't...
> 
> would be lovely to hear your thoughts by the way! x
> 
> thanks for reading! uwu


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